


The Repeated

by PhotonTiaL



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhotonTiaL/pseuds/PhotonTiaL
Summary: It only started with a kiss. Just the mixed smell of sultry dormitory, sweat clothes, soil, grass under the wall, and wanton youth.
Relationships: Maes Hughes/Roy Mustang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	The Repeated

**Author's Note:**

> I am starting to translate some of my previous fic, and this is the very first time I make creative writing in English. Sometimes I can't tell what's wrong with the words when I just feel not right.   
> Please feel free to let me know if there is any terrible mistakes !!
> 
> Originally posted at https://archiveofourown.org/works/25312702

It only started with a kiss. Just the mixed smell of sultry dormitory, sweat clothes, soil, grass under the wall, and wanton youth. A joke, a prank of eighteen-year-old, his tension inside was stung by the stubble. But Roy didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He grabbed Maes by the shoulder and deepened the kiss until the other person also grabbed his waist, then they fell on the lower bunk.

Space was too pressing for the two adults, especially Roy, who was pinned down under a sweating body like he was caught by flame in the middle of desert. His head was forced to the corner, against the iron bed frame coated with rough paint, like a defeated soldier flat on his back. His arms were open like surrendering, neck tilting backward to accept more caresses and conquest. Roy thought between the battle of lips and tongues that Mars’s gasps were unbelievably real. Their distance between was narrowed until alarm ringed painfully in his mind, and they moved forward, an inch closer, one more touch and things would never go back...Too late, neither side could walk away. So the buttons were taken off, the tough fabric uniforms were peeled, and what hung on his shoulders was his minor sane remains.

It couldn't be so-called romance. It couldn't be just hormones. it's an evil conspiracy between the two.

"Roy, Roy." Maes murmured into his ears, bare flesh of both sides rubbing, "Look at me." His voice was gentle and calm, as usual, more calm than usual, as if Roy was the only one panic in this despicable script.

He was right. Roy hoped for the first time that his mind can be less sharp that he could paralyze himself for another second. His eyes glistened with tears, pretending that it was due to physical pains but in vain. His legs wide opened, and his entrance was expanded to barely contain two knuckles, shrinking to squeeze out the aggressor as much as urging to stay.

"Relax, okay? It's too tight there." Maes moved his fingers slightly, took some trouble to pull them out, and patted his ass wickedly. Roy groaned.

"I can't" Roy was biting his lips, torso curled sideways between the other's chest and the wall. Call it what you want because they never explained. Need no more and dare no more. Roy wouldn't say that he was innocent, since he did bury his head in Mars's shoulders, and the sweat noise leaked from his teeth was undeniable. "...There is Vaseline in the cabinet."

Some rustling. Roy did not dare to open his eyes, barely waited for the execution after the emptiness. When Maes came back, he kissed him on the forehead again, placating, and gently poked a hell lot of lubricant into his body. He wanted to say enough, no need for so much tenderness, so much arousal. His thirst for pain was not just talking. His furtively desire might lead to six feet below.

What invaded him did not belong to him, nor did the emotion stirred his brain. Roy knew it from the beginning, yet he only kenned the limited version. The moment his body was taken, he thought that it was all, the strongest and most painful moment his heart could bear.

The pleasure was confusing, brought up tears, and washed away his reason. His mind separated reality out of self-protection: warm palms behind his head, fierce gasping aside his ears, and a body exuding heat and sweat entangled with him-but he suddenly falling into an ice cave.

Then it occurred to him. It was not summer, nor afternoon, and there was no sunshine leaking through the curtain.

He remembered that the first time he faced death was at east, the vast earth and thousands of wrecked bodies; the second time he faced death was in the center, he was within the well-dressed crowd and realized that the weight of life can be understood only when it involves his heart. His hypocrisy, his secrets, lack of propriety. He finally took a peek of the missing piece and paid the price he couldn't bear.

"Maes..." He groaned, speeding up the mechanical movements with his hand, knocking over the wine glass on the floor. The pleasure and pain would never be partitioned again.

Roy took out some tissue to wipe the floor clean, as well as himself.


End file.
